Review: Twisted
When a movie starts off with a bar dancing Ashley Judd, hopes can rise through the roof. An established actress like her, the mystery on screen is a difficult one to figure out. And I don’t mean the serial killer in the story, I mean Ashley actually reading the script, and choosing this role. The trailer makes it look like the next Seven wannabe, but it doesn’t even come near a bad episode of Profiler. If Ashley does method acting, I wonder in which Alzheimer’s Institute she’s been. (What follows here might be considered as a breaking of my sacred non-spoiler reviewing rule, but for a bad movie like this, it wouldn’t make any difference). I wonder what goes around in her head when she has to act suprised again, after not the second, not the third, but the FIFTH time she drinks from her drugged wine and dozes off, only to wake up in shock, AGAIN. What a waste of talent. For now, I see writer Sarah Thorp has nothing lined up for the future, and I hope it stays that way. Let’s drink some drugged wine to that.3½.